


Left Alone, You Should've Known

by InsightfulInsomniac



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Dad!Luztoye, Fluff, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, domestic life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 03:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11431875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsightfulInsomniac/pseuds/InsightfulInsomniac
Summary: Joe runs to the store to grab a few ingredients for dinner and returns to quite the sight.Based on the prompt "What did you just do?!" from @aces_low





	Left Alone, You Should've Known

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to @aces_low for requesting this on Tumblr! Here's a little drabble for y'all :)

Grabbing the keys out of the ignition and slinging the grocery bag over his forearm, Joe hops out of the car with a last glance at the clock. He'd run to the local global market, a small corner store about ten minutes away, to pick up some saffron and Portuguese chorico for his paella. Joe has spent enough time in Mama Luz's kitchen to know that omitting either ingredient is a sin.

Through the front door of the house, he can hear muffled laughs and shouts of delight not just from his kids, but also from his husband. With a smile, he pushes open the door only to be stopped in his tracks.

"What did you just do?"

Four sheepish paint-covered faces stare back at him, handprints in every color of the rainbow splattered across their clothes. Across the living room floor is one of those plastic painter's mats, but the attempt at cleanliness is completely canceled out by the sheer amount of paint strewn across it.

Jace giggles, displaying his multi-colored hands to Joe. "Daddy taught us to finger paint!"

"Oh, did he now?" He replies, glaring over at George. "Did Daddy teach you to finger paint each other?"

"We played paint tag," Charlotte adds happily, sporting a small purple handprint on her cheek, likely from one of her younger siblings. "It was awesome!"

"I saw a cute finger painting art project on Pinterest," George explains weakly, and he at least has the sense to look ashamed, though a smile still stays plastered on his lips. "It just got a little out of hand."

Joe sighs, but can't fight the grin that tugs at the corners of his mouth. He shakes his head amusedly, carefully stepping over large splotches of paint as he makes his way to the kitchen.

"I leave you alone for a half hour, and you all but repaint the house!"

"The projects turned out nice!" George yells back defensively, and Joe turns around again.

"Did the oven preheat?" He asks calmly, crossing his arms and attempting to create the picture of patience.

All four heads nod in unison.

"Thank you."

Joe disappears into the kitchen, donning the apron that George got him last Christmas (black, with bold white lettering that reads "Real men work out in the kitchen"). Setting out the ingredients after he washes his hands and grabs his favorite paring knife, he's about ready to chop some vegetables when he feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around him.

"I love it when you cook. It's so sexy."

"You're still covered in paint," he deadpans, but resumes chopping the red bell pepper anyway. "And you left our kids alone with paint."

"I sent them outside. Figured they could have fun with the hose for a bit."

"You need a shower," Joe reiterates, peeling George's painted body off of him, noting the few streaks of color left on his apron and clothes.

His husband waggles his eyebrows. "Is that an invitation?"

"I am making your grandma's paella," Joe replies dryly, but not without a hint of a smile. "The least you could do is get cleaned up before dinner."

"And you'll clean me up after dinner, right?" George teases, and Joe rolls his eyes.

"Go," he commands fondly, not concealing his smirk as he smacks George's ass with a nearby spatula.

Just minutes later, the back door opens and three soaking wet kids sprint into the house, and Joe just about cuts his finger off in his haste to run from the kitchen and hand out towels, ushering them upstairs to get changed.

On his way back to the kitchen, he takes stock of the damage done to the living room, deciding that he'll tackle that one after dinner. No use in having George and the kids clean that up; they'll just get messy all over again.

And yet, the memory of his family covered in paint and frozen in shock still makes him smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic requests are open @insightfulinsomniac on Tumblr! Feel free to drop in!


End file.
